Sliding her arms into the sleeves, she wrapped the material around her body and tied the sash. She immediately hurried toward the door.
“Mary?”
“I’ll be right back,” she said, determined to get away, if for no other reason than to pull herself together before she faced him once more.
“Now, sub.”
“Brock…”
“I won’t ask again.”
Slowly, she turned around. “Don’t do this.”
Brock rolled his tongue over his parched lips. “Whether you admit it now or later, you belong to me. You can run, but you’ll never escape. You can avoid the truth all you want, but that won’t change things. I felt how you responded to me, and I know you felt our connection, too. That’s why you’re trying to get out of here as fast as you can.”
“We had a moment,” she began. “That’s all it was.”
Brock leapt from the bed and grabbed her around the waist. “A moment?”
“Yes,” she deadpanned.
“Is that really what you want to call this?”
Mary was taken aback by the intensity lingering behind his tormented eyes. What did he expect? Hadn’t she warned him about this? Hadn’t she explained how much she still adored and loved her husband?
Maybe to Brock, Luke was dead. In her mind, Luke was on another extended tour, but tours ended, and Luke always weathered the storm. He’d come home. She still had faith, and she’d carry that conviction all the way to the end of time, until the military produced Luke’s body!
“Mary, answer me. Do you really want me to believe that we had a moment and nothing more?”
“Yes, Brock. I’m sure you’re quite used to the concept. Most adults call these things one-night-stands. I’m not sure how you want me to refer to last night, but that’s all it was—a fling.”
Brock’s mouth curved into a smile. “Well baby, I hate to tell you this, but I ain’t much for flings. I’m more interested in the real thing, and I happen to think I have a hold of something mighty damn close to the best a man can find.” A beat later, he said, “I’m not letting you go, Mary. But I made a mistake last night.”
“What? By sleeping with me?”
He narrowed his gaze on her chest. “By letting you think you’ll wear the pants in this relationship. I don’t play games with subs, sugar, but I gave you what I thought you needed most because that’s what compassionate Doms do. They’re in tune with their submissive partners. Next time, things will be different with us.”
“There won’t be a next time.”
“Oh yes, there will.”
She pursed her lips.
“That bothers you, doesn’t it?”
Mary squirmed. Brock’s grip tightened.
“Tell me you’re not used to stubborn men.”
She glared at him. “I wish I could, but the truth is, I seem to only attract men with attitudes.”
“Count yourself lucky. One thing about it, you’ll never be bored.”
“I’m not looking for a relationship.”
“Too bad,” Brock said, acting as if he enjoyed Mary’s defiant side. “You should’ve thought of that before you spread your legs for a man who likes being between them. Because now that I’ve visited there, I feel right at home.”
* * * *
Somewhere in Afghanistan
“He says his name is Lieutenant Lucas Worthington,” someone said in the distance.
“Worthington?” A deep voice resounded in the distance. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” the same voice quickly replied.
“Does he have any identification?”
“No, sir.”
“But you’re sure he’s an American?”
“Oh, no question. The guy has a thick Southern accent.”
“Let me talk to him.”
Luke tried to open his eyes. He’d made it to Bagram Airfield. After months of crawling in the sand, eating and drinking what he could find, he’d finally spotted the control tower and support buildings. Now, he could finally rest.
“Son, are you with the United States Navy?”
Luke’s head rolled to the side. His mouth was so dry. He couldn’t open his eyes now. The dust was heavy in his lids. He blinked, tried to make out the figures and shapes approaching him. Was he delusional? Had he even made it to Bagram, or was this an illusion?
He gasped for air, but his next breath was more labored than the last. His breathing remained uneven and burdened. He’d survived and escaped days of torture, but where was he now? Maybe the buildings he saw were in fact occupied by the enemy.
“Are you Lieutenant Lucas Worthington?”
“Mary,” he whispered, remembering her sweet smile, her loving kiss, and the way she’d begged him not to come back here. Why had he signed on for another tour? What had he been thinking? Why hadn’t he listened when Mary begged him, when she told him she longed to start a family?
“Son, can you hear me?”
He saw a bright light and reached for the sun. Mary. Mary. Mary. Then the world went dark.
Chapter Eight
“What’s he doing out there?” Mary asked, chewing on her thumbnail.
Anna peered out the window again. “It looks like he’s putting some kind of device on your car.”
“Are you serious?” Mary asked, swinging the door open and starting outside. She’d survived three days of this arrogant ass, and now he was putting something on her car? “Just who the hell does he think he is?”
Anna shrugged. “What can I say, I think he likes you.”
“He’s a very possessive man, Anna. The man isn’t right,” Mary told her, pointing to her temple. “He has a few loose screws.”
“He looks normal to me,” Anna said, grinning. “Man o’man, I never thought I’d see the day when another man got to you like Brock has.”
“Got to me? Are you kidding?” Mary asked, raising her voice an octave. “He’s on my last nerve!”
“You have plenty more,” Anna assured her. “Remember who you’re talking to here. I’ve been on your last nerve for the last dozen years or so. Besides, like I said, he looks okay to me. I think you’re overreacting.”
“Of course you would. You wanted to set us up in the first place,” Mary chirped. “Besides, any man with tight jeans and a big dick looks okay as far as you’re concerned.”
“So he has a big penis, does he?”
“I never said that,” Mary told her.
“Yes, you did. Just then.”
Mary felt her skin heat. She was not having this conversation with her sister. Besides, she was pissed at Anna. Who in the hell did she think she was, anyway? She not only introduced them, she gave Brock her stamp of approval, and apparently thought it was a-okay for him to burst into her life and take charge like a committed man.
“I’m not buying that you don’t like him for a minute,” Anna remarked, studying her recently painted fingernails. “Besides, Mary, if you’ve already fucked him, you’ve gotten past any possible intimacy issues. Now, the two of you can have a good time together. Is that so bad?”
“I should tell Brock he picked the wrong sister,” Mary grumbled.
“We’re friends.”
“Damn shame, you couldn’t have been friends with benefits.”
“I’m afraid the perks wouldn’t have impressed me,” Anna said.
Mary immediately turned her gaze toward her sister. “Why? What’s wrong with him?”
“Nothing,” Anna assured her. “I just don’t like the domineering type.”
“That’s a crock, and you know it,” Mary told her, glaring at Brock still harder. “This will be over before it starts.”
“I don’t think so,” Anna sang.
Mary continued to stare outside. She watched as Brock fingered a few wires then knotted them together. “Is he hotwiring my car or rigging it so he’ll always know where I am?”
“I have no idea. Why don’t you ask him?”
“I think I wil
l,” Mary retorted, marching outside. She was aware of Anna trailing behind her. “Brock, what pray tell are you doing?”
Brock looked over her shoulder and grinned. Anna snickered behind her. Evidently, Brock and Anna were having a hell of a good time at her expense. “I’m working on a little something for your car.”
“What?”
“It’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Oh really?” Mary asked, stomping her foot. “Are you putting some kind of device on my vehicle so you’ll know where I am at all times?”
“You really think I’m that possessive over you after one time in the sack?”
“Brock!” Mary exclaimed, feeling embarrassed that he’d say something so flamboyant in front of her sister.
“Don’t worry about me, Mary,” Anna said. “I already know you fucked him.”
Brock winked. “She couldn’t keep good news like that to herself.”
“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” Mary persisted, ignoring Anna.
“A lot,” Brock said, shooting her a wink and slapping her ass in passing.
Anna laughed, and Mary jerked, the jolt of being smacked on the rear igniting a raging need that would be hard to ignore.
Anna strolled by them. “Give the guy a break.” A beat later, she turned to Brock and said, “I wouldn’t put that past you, by the way. I can see you tracking her.”
Mary narrowed her gaze. “That’s the sad thing. I can see you doing that, too!”
“Good, because that’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Mary immediately felt the blood drain from her face. Her pulse increased, and much to her dismay, she truly panicked. “You can’t do that.”
“Watch me,” he told her stubbornly, twisting those wires together before inserting them inside some kind of metal box. “This is one of my own designs. I trust electronics about like I trust my government to always have my back. Believe me, if you try to run from me, I’ll find you.”
Anna shrugged. “That’s what you call a determined man.”
Mary snarled. “Or my first intuition is right. He ain’t right, Anna!”
“Ain’t?” Anna asked. “Oh boy, Brock, you’ve done it now. When Mary’s grammar goes to pots, you’re in for trouble with a capital T.”
“As long as she doesn’t have a foul mouth like her sister, we’ll get along fine.”
“I do,” Mary said about the time Anna informed him of the same.
“She isn’t lying. She could teach us new words.”
“I doubt that,” Brock said, still playing with his man toy.
“As much as I hate to run, I have a condominium to show an anxious buyer. You two lovebirds go inside and play house a few more days before you try to go out on the town together.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Brock said, looking at Mary as if he thought she should just strip right there on the sidewalk.
Anna popped a kiss on Mary’s cheek. “Be thankful for what you have, Mary. Most women would love to have a man like Brock watching their every move.”
“I’m sure,” she retorted, thinking she didn’t see Anna rushing out to meet an egotistical hard-ass. Oh no, her sister wouldn’t put up with someone like Brock for longer than a few minutes.
After Anna disappeared behind the wheel of her sports coupe and cranked the engine, Brock said, “Want to take a look at what I’ve done here?”
“Want to tell me what this is all about?”
“Not really.”
“Are you always this possessive over women you just meet?”
“Nope,” he replied, confirming her fears.
Good God, he reminded her of Luke! They were two peas in a pod.
She held her breath as she watched him. Soon, she’d have to teach Brock the same lessons she’d once taught Luke. She’d cook him to mush and embarrass him when it mattered. Maybe then, he’d realize he couldn’t just storm into her life and take control of a woman who didn’t belong to him.
Like that would do any good. If Luke had taught her anything at all, it was that a stubborn Dom was hard to handle once he’d set his sights on a submissive woman he wanted to claim for his own. And there wasn’t any doubt, Brock planned to stick around. He already thought she belonged to him anyhow.
“I’ll take the car to a mechanic and have the device removed.”
“Go ahead. I can reinstall another one in a flash.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I can.” A beat later, he added, “And because down deep, this is what you want.”
“Like hell it is.”
“Sure you don’t want to have a look?”
“No,” Mary replied, rushing back inside. This was too much, and he was moving way too fast. How in the hell had she gotten herself in this situation? She knew the answer to that. If she’d kept her pants up, she wouldn’t be in this predicament.
“Have it your way, my little sub muffin!” Brock called out before she slammed the door.
She immediately stilled. Sub muffin? Humph, if she had things her way, Brock Taylor would be back where he belonged—on the base in a barracks or wherever the hell he lived. Where he wouldn’t be was in her front yard preparing a rig that would inevitably track her every move.
No, this didn’t work for her. Not in any shape, form or fashion.
* * * *
“Oh my God, what have you done to me?” Mary exclaimed. She dropped against Brock’s body after back-to-back orgasms sent her spinning.
“You’re sensational,” he whispered against her hair, his cock still pulsing inside her.
“Hmm…” she agreed, sated. “To think I wanted to wring your neck a few hours ago.”
“You gave it your best shot,” he promised her, his fingers trailing up and down her spine.
Mary rested her cheek against his warm body. His chest hairs tickled her face, and she inhaled his male scent, the rich fragrance of aftershave and cologne.
After Brock convinced Mary the tracking device he placed on her car was for her own good, and did so without supporting facts, but rather by using pure male persuasion, Mary reached a conclusion.
For whatever reason, Brock was interested in her. He knew how she felt about the husband she lost. He apparently understood she wasn’t interested in seeing anyone replace him. Still, he remained steadfast in his quest. Perhaps he would only be here today. Maybe he’d stay for a week or two, but regardless of what his intentions were, Mary was certain of one thing. She and Brock had a sizzling connection. They enjoyed real chemistry. She’d felt comfortable with him from the beginning. What they shared was rare. She understood that better than anyone.
Mary knew from her own previous experience. She and Brock were living in the early days of a relationship bound to lead them somewhere together.
Chapter Nine
Six Months Later
Gatlinburg, Tennessee
Mary was on pins and needles. She hadn’t seen Brock in three months, but even though his mission was classified, he’d been able to call her several times a week. They’d spoken often, and when he proposed, she was elated. The proposal came as a complete surprise, and while his confession of endearing love wasn’t necessarily presented in the traditional manner—on bended knee with ring in hand—it was by far one of the most romantic moments of her life.
He’d placed a collect call, and the operator had asked if Mary Worthington would accept a call from her fiancé, Brock Taylor. When she’d said yes, they’d shared a few laughs then he’d said, “The operator didn’t make a mistake. I want to marry you if you’ll have me.”
Of course, she’d said yes. And like most brides-to-be, she’d cried. Later, she’d spent hours on the phone with her sister. She and Anna had a lot to do in a short period of time, and now, here they were.
The big day had finally arrived.
“Do you think he’ll be here?” Mary asked, trying to ignore the butterflies in her stomach.
“Honey,” Anna said, touching he
r cheek, “he’ll be here.”
Anna studied her reflection in the mirror again. She wore a sleek chiffon wedding gown with wide straps over her shoulders completely adorned by sequins that led to a full back of cascading ruffles dropping from the waist down. The fitted bodice was flattering, and the ivory color was appropriate for a second marriage. She wore flashy diamond teardrop earrings Anna loaned her, and the garter she’d worn from her first marriage, something she, Anna, and Brock had discussed.
Sliding her foot through the garter, she said, “Brock has been so understanding.”
“About?” Anna asked, arching a brow.
“Never mind,” she whispered. In recent months, Mary had trouble saying Luke’s name aloud. Things had progressed rapidly between her and Brock, and she loved him. She loved him with all her heart, and while she carried Luke with her, and felt she always would, Brock was her future. She didn’t want to take away from the love the two of them shared.
“Honey, are you okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Mary asked, picking up a handheld mirror and checking out her up-do. Anna was brilliant with hair and make-up, and she’d painstakingly held her breath as she worked like a professional stylist until she achieved the perfect ballerina twist.
Anna placed her hands on Mary’s shoulders and gave her a tight squeeze. “Luke is here with you. I know he is.”
Mary gasped, dabbing the corners of her eyes. “You’re right. He is.” She wheeled around to face Anna. “Now, let’s talk about you. Want me to try to copy this hairstyle for you?”
Anna twirled a lock of hair around her forefinger. “Honey, I’m content to wear my hair down. This is your day. I’m not worried about this mess.”
Studying her hair again, Mary admired her sister’s handiwork. Secured by rhinestones and pearl hairpins, her hair was swept completely away from her face. She closed her eyes and thought of Brock’s hands at her cheeks. She could almost see his bright blue eyes lighting up, as they often did, when he saw her.
“He loves me, right?” she asked, turning to her sister.
Mary Had a Little Problem Page 6
